


twisted up when i'm twisting with you

by theworstwolves



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: (oh god can you see where this is going), Barebacking, Bottom Jack, Dom/sub, Eric has a thing for it, Jack's butt, M/M, Massage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Top Eric Bittle, lil bit of aftercare, these kinky motherfuckers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 10:29:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8140690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworstwolves/pseuds/theworstwolves
Summary: When Eric re-enters the room he has to take a moment because well, this is Jack Zimmermann – Jack Zimmermann of NHL fame, ESPN body issue cover star and main component of many of Eric’s covert fantasies – face down on the massage table and naked except for the smallest pair of boxers covering his truly magnificent ass.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure filth, I am so sorry, I have no excuse.

When Eric re-enters the room he has to take a moment because well, this is Jack Zimmermann – Jack Zimmermann of NHL fame, ESPN body issue cover star and main component of many of Eric’s covert fantasies – face down on the massage table and naked except for the smallest pair of boxers covering his truly magnificent ass. He should have been expecting it really. He’d asked Jack to change after all, to get himself comfortable while Eric gave him some privacy, but the sight of all that bare skin and god, that butt, knocks him back a little. His hands itch to touch, and he thanks god that he has an excuse to.

If you’d told him five years ago that he’d be massaging Jack Zimmermann’s butt he’d have told you you we’re crazy (well, he wouldn’t have known who Jack Zimmermann was, but then you’d have shown him a picture and yeah – Eric never saw his life going this way) but here he is, and more importantly, here Jack is, lain out and waiting patiently for him.

They’d spoken about it before Jack had taken his clothes off. He’d hurt his hamstring in practice, nothing too serious but his doctor had recommended seeing a sports therapist to help work the muscle and that was where Eric came in. Eric had told him what he was going to do, Jack had listened intently and then asked Eric to leave the room while he changed.

Eric makes his way to the table, resting his hand lightly on the back of Jack’s shin so that he knows that he’s there, Jack turns his head and meets his gaze as best he can. “This is going to hurt a little.” Eric tells him, “just let me know if it’s too much and I’ll stop.” Jack nods, and then rests his cheek back down. Eric trails his hand up the back of Jack’s leg, it’s not strictly necessary but he can’t not touch, not when his fingers leave a trail of goose bumps along Jack’s skin and he shifts slightly under him.

When Eric reaches Jack’s thigh he feels his mouth go a little dry, because in order to work the muscle properly he needs to wrap his hands around it, push down with his thumbs and well holding Jack Zimmermann’s thigh in his hands is a borderline religious experience. It’s all hot skin and corded muscle, the faintest silver slither of stretch marks disappearing under his boxers and Eric knows that he wouldn’t be able to close his hands around Jack’s thigh if he tried.

It’s really not fair.

Still, he has a job to do. A job that isn’t made any easier when, the first time he pushes his thumbs down Jack makes this small gasping noise, a quick inhale of breath followed by a shaking exhale. His muscles jump under Eric’s fingers and Eric releases the pressure. “You need to relax.” He tells Jack, “tell me if it hurts but try and relax.”

It takes him a while, Eric keeps his hands light as he sweeps them across the back of Jack’s thigh, heels of his palms pushing down, fingers skimming the end of his boxers, until Jack exhales again, shifts further down into the table and only responds to the next bit of pressure with the smallest puff of air. After that it’s easy, he feels Jack’s muscles unknot under his hands and soon, far too soon, he’s technically done.

“I’m going to move onto your glutes, leg injuries can put pressure on them, you’ll probably find you’re carrying some tension there too.” It doesn’t quite sound scientifically sound but Eric needs to touch that ass like breathing, and Jack just tells him ‘okay’ in a voice that’s low in the quiet of the room, low and not quite steady.

It’s a shame that Jack’s wearing boxers, that there’s thin stretched material between Eric’s hands and his skin but this will do. He moves his hand up and finds himself with the sudden urge to pull it back, bring it down hard and watch Jack’s ass shake at the impact. He bites down on his lip, tamping that thought down and tells himself that he’s a professional, and he’s going to touch Jack’s ass as professionally as possible. He settles for digging his fingers in, getting handfuls of muscle and squeezing,  hands spread wide as he tries desperately to remember the techniques he’s been taught, massaging him in a way that’s only partially correct, but won’t do any damage and hopefully won’t tip Jack off to the fact that he’s being shamelessly self-indulgent.

He stops after a few minutes, because he can’t touch Jack’s butt more than he touched his thighs, no matter how much he wants to. He reluctantly lets go and steps back. “You can sit up now.”

It takes Jack a while, and for a moment Eric thinks that maybe he didn’t hear him and that he should say it again but then Jack shifts, rolling onto his back and sitting up, legs dangling over the edge of the table. His face is bright red and when Eric looks down - because come on, who wouldn’t  -  he sees that Jack’s cock is shockingly hard.

He stares for a lot longer than is proper, watching as Jack shifts, moves his hand as if he’s thinking about covering himself and then deciding not to. “Sorry,” he tells Eric, not meeting his gaze when Eric finally looks back at his flushed face.

“It’s a perfectly natural reaction, happens to guys all the time.” Eric tells him, which is true. His own reaction though probably can’t be considered ‘perfectly natural’. Or maybe it can, being faced with Jack Zimmermann’s ass, and then his erection is a pretty spectacular occurrence, one Eric isn’t sure he’s able to quite process.  

“I – uh – I just need to work you though some stretches, so you know what to do for next time.” He says, working though his mental check list in order to stop from popping a boner himself, “lie on your back please.”

Normally, people’s erections tend to go down at his point. Now that they’re no longer being touched, and they’re faced with embarrassment, or shame, or the realisation that sports massages just aren’t that sexy. Jack’s doesn’t. In fact, as Eric takes Jack’s foot in his hand and pushes his thigh into his chest he notices Jack’s cock twitch, the front of his boxers start to stain. Eric’s hand slips, Jack swears under his breath, they make eye contact. Jack’s mouth is hanging open, pupils blown wide, and face still tinged pink. Eric let’s all trace of professionalism go out the window. He lowers Jack’s leg gently.

“You should take your boxers off.”

He waits and beat, and then two and then Jack is standing up, eyes fixed on Eric as he slips his underwear of his hips, down past those magnificent thighs and onto the floor, where he kicks them under the table and just stands there, letting Eric stare at him, take all of him in. The trail of hair leading down his abs, getting darker and thicker until it hits the base of his cock, which is hard and flush against his stomach.

Jack’s cock is fantastic, but his naked ass, Eric thinks, has got to be better.

He steps back towards the table, finding the lever underneath and lowering it a little. “Turn around.” Eric tells Jack and Jack does without a moment’s hesitation, he moves to the edge of the table and faces away from Eric.

“Now bend over.”

If Eric wasn’t hard before he is now, as he watches Jack’s back stretch as he lowers his body to the table, arms out in front of him, holding his weight, spine bent with his ass and thighs on show for Eric to just stare at. Eric could look at this view forever, he thinks, as he pushes his hand against his jeans and groans, but there are also other things he could do, and he’s pretty sure that Jack is about to let him do them.

“Stay there.” His voice is firm now, no longer asking questions, suggesting, but telling and he hears Jack’s gasping ‘yes’ as he makes his way over to his bag.

He’s knows what he’s looking for, because while condoms and lube aren’t something you pack when you’re going to massage a hockey player, oil is and sure enough he soon has the little bottle gripped tight in his hand. When he turns back Jack is exactly as he left him, bent over the table, arms shaking slightly from his weight, ass still on show.

“Put your arms behind you.”

 He watched as Jack lowers himself further, pushing his ass up higher as he presses his face into the table.

“Lord, I can’t wait to fuck you.” He says and Jack honest to god whimpers. He shifts his hips forward a little and Eric’s reminded of the fact that he was rock hard even before he was asked to get naked and if Eric wasn’t so obsessed with his ass right now he’s ask him to turn around again so he could see. As it is though this view is more than good enough, as is the way Jack’s whole body shakes when Eric puts his hands on his ass cheeks and spreads them. He takes a moment to lament the fact that Jack is so fucking tall, because if there wasn’t such a height difference right now Eric would drop to his knees and open Jack up with his tongue. He tells Jack this as he runs his thumb down Jack’s cleft, brushing against his hole, pushing in ever so slightly before pulling back when Jack groans and ruts himself against the table.

“Stay still!”

Jack stops moving instantly, apart from the small tremors running though his thighs and Eric waits there, hands on either side of Jack’s ass and counts his hearts beats until Jack whispers out a broken ‘please.’

The oil isn’t ideal, it slips down his fingers and onto the wooden floor but it’s all he has to work with, and  it coats them well enough so that when he pushes them inside Jack they go smoothly. Jack gasps, breath punched out of him by the twist of Eric’s fingers and pushes himself back against them. Eric pulls them out instantly, “I said stay still Jack.”

He watches as Jack’s hole flutters and he shifts his hips, breath coming out in gasps before he settles, body stilling again. Eric can see sweat pooling the back of his neck, there’s oil dripping down the inside of his thigh and tension running throughout his body at the effort it’s taking him not to move,  but once he’s still, he’s still.

“So good for me.” Eric whispers, more to himself really, but he can’t stop the statement of awe and he knows that he said it loud enough for Jack to have heard him because he’d pretty sure he hears Jack _sob_.

He pushed his fingers back in slowly, knuckle by knuckle and feels as Jack clenches around him. He doesn’t move any other part of his body though, just like Eric had asked him, stays stock still. He is making these little noises though, small puffs of air each time Eric pumps his fingers that make Eric add another, work his hand harder to hear more of those sounds, to see if he can make them more desperate.

He wants to take his time, to open Jack slowly until he’s begging – and god Eric’s sure that he’d beg - but he doesn’t have it in him. Not when his own cock is hard and uncomfortable in his jeans, not when Jack is so hot and tight around his fingers, breath coming fast and shaking at each of Eric’s small movements.

Jack whines when he pulls his fingers out, and Eric decides he can’t even be bothered to undress properly, just undoes his jeans and lets them drop down his thighs, pushes his boxers after them and works his cock a few times.

He pushes in slowly, not out of any courtesy to Jack, just out of the need to see himself, disappearing inside Jack’s ass, filling him as much as he can. He stops when he bottoms out, feeling Jack’s muscles work around him and he thinks maybe he could come like this. Find his pleasure and leave Jack lain out and desperate. He gasps at the thought and at Jack’s repeated ‘please!”

The rhythm he starts is unsteady, slowing when he feels either of them start to get close because he wants to make this last, to feel Jack shake under him as Eric takes him apart, hands firm on his hips, nails digging in a little when he picks up speed or holding him bruisingly tight when he goes slow.

Jack stays still like Eric asked him too. He’s got his head turned to the side, though Eric doubts he can see behind him that well, and his eyes keep fluttering closed any way. His hands are still behind his back and Eric can see the way his knuckles are white from where he’s gripping at his wrists. When Eric drags his hips back Jack just goes with the movement, body lose and pliant and taking all that Eric’s giving to him. The next time he opens his eyes Eric see that they’re glistening.

He starts having to slow up more often, noting the way Jack’s back tenses, his words, which though basic (a stream of god, and fuck, and please, and Eric’s name) start to slur together or just descend into grunts and each time he restarts the rhythm it’s like Jack’s right back where he was, tightening around Eric and babbling incoherently.

“God, Bitty please!”

This time the sound that comes from Jack definitely is a sob and Eric knows well enough to stop his movements all together. Stilling inside him as he strokes his hand across his hip though all that achieves is more wet breaths from Jack.

“I’m sorry – I – I couldn’t – “

Bitty cuts him off, shushing him as he moves one of his hands up, lacing his fingers with Jacks and leaning in to kiss  as high up on his spine as he can reach.

“Sweetheart it’s okay.” He sooths, “you did so well, you we’re so so good for me honey. We can stop now, if you want, I won’t be mad, this has been so perfect for me, but we can stop if you need to.”

Jack shakes his head,  well as much as he can with the way it’s rested, and pushes his hips back against Bitty’s – it’s the first time he’s moved and it’s maddening – and says “no, please don’t stop.”

Bitty doesn’t chide him for the movement; they’re not playing any more, not now Jack has used his name and the illusion that had been surrounding them has shattered. He thinks maybe though, however good that had been, he likes it better this way, likes the pet names and the praise and the way he can brush his thumb across the back of Jack’s hand. He doesn’t stop his movements either, because Jack’s voice is sure and certain even as it wavers. Bitty starts moving his hips again, whispering praise as he does and this time when he feels Jack start to tense he doesn’t slow down, fucks him though his building orgasm and over the edge, follows as Jack shakes around him and all but collapses against Jack’s back, smile pressed against his sweat soaked skin.

He straightens and pulls out after a few moments, watching as his come slips down Jack’s thigh and vaguely wanting to push it back in, to finger Jack until he comes again but now is not the time for that. Instead he moves his hands to Jack’s back, rubbing at the base of his spine and feeling his body still shaking under him.

“It’s time to get up now sweetheart.” He tells him and Jack pushes himself up, turning over and instantly wrapping himself around Bitty, face pressed into his chest, fingers clinging to his shirt as his body trembles.  There are marks on his face from where it was pressed into the table, bruises already blooming on his hips. He might still be crying a little. Bitty strokes his hair, “you we’re magnificent baby, you felt so good, you made me feel so good.”

The make their way into the shower eventually, when Jack can stand sure on his legs and separate himself from Bitty enough for them to leave the room. He still grips his hand tight though, kisses at his neck as he turns the shower on and once they’re in Bitty takes his time washing him down, cleaning him out, kissing him gently on the mouth in the way he’d missed out on earlier.

“I love you,” Jack tells him.

“I love you too,” Bitty replies, and then, “I still cannot believe you bought a massage table just so we could fuck on it.”

“I didn’t get it just so we could fuck.” Jack points out.

“Yeah, you still need to keep an eye on your leg you know, you didn’t give me a chance to properly go through those stretches.”

Jack splashes him with water then pulls him in for a kiss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is normally where I say 'I'm in on tumblr as [lesbianzimmermann](http://lesbianzimmermann.tumblr.com//)' but I'm not actually sure I want to be associated with this.


End file.
